


Oliver Has a Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

by SpockPandaSaurus (xxpanda92xx)



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxpanda92xx/pseuds/SpockPandaSaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine person A coming back from a long frustrating day at work. When they return home, they see that the house has been cleaned, top to bottom, dinner is cooking and the table set. Person B comes out of the kitchen to greet person A with a hug but person A kisses person B on the mouth instead, thanking them for everything they have done for them. Person B just smiles and says they know already and kisses person A back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oliver Has a Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to ninjathrowingstork for beta reading this!

Oliver groaned as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t decide who he was more frustrated with, the person who sent everyone at the company an official looking email that linked to a malware infested site, or everyone who couldn’t be bothered verifying the sender and content of the message before following the link. Some days, he was amazed he didn’t have to explain that no, investing in a Nigerian prince was not a good way to A) save for retirement, B) get rich quick, or C) pay off student loans (though he could at least relate to that one). The numerous calls of, “Help, I think I’ve been hacked/I don’t know what to do/it’s never done this before/etc,” had not only been repetitive (though he enjoyed working with the girl who had told him to bring “some salt, holy water, and a priest if he could find one because this thing needed a fucking exorcism and even his IT sorcery might not be enough”, and he had had to stifle a laugh at the man who insisted he “wasn’t looking at porn again, I swear to God!”) and frustrating to resolve, but had set him considerably far back on an important, time-sensitive project. The only reason his boss hadn’t flown off the handle about the delay was that he, too, was buried under complaints.

To top of a fantastically horrendous day, Connor had texted him to cancel their date. The plan had been for Oliver to bring take out over to Connor’s for a movie night to greet the weekend, but instead it appeared that he would be nursing a migraine alone in his messy apartment. He had been looking forward to spending tonight with Connor, too; it was their six month anniversary. Well, technically it wasn’t an anniversary at all, and it had been a little over eight months since he had allowed the law student back in his life. However, it had been six months since Connor had confessed that the drug problem was a lie, and that while he had very big, important reasons for not telling Oliver what had gone on that night, he wanted to stop lying about it. It had led to a huge fight, naturally, but once they had worked through it, their relationship deepened and grew more serious. Connor had begun opening up to Oliver in bits and pieces, talking about why it hurt to be just a footnote in Aiden’s life, not even worth mentioning to Michaela; about why he had really been upset about Paxton, how he felt guilty for his death (the conversation had resulted in a panic attack like the one outside Oliver’s door that morning); about how “I like you, actually” was Connor’s failed attempt at conveying that he really, really liked Oliver a lot and would still have wanted to be with him even if he stopped hacking things so that Annalise could win cases; Connor had even let a couple things slip about his family, before shutting down and refusing to pursue the topic. It was also after the fight that Connor had first called him “boyfriend”, sitting and drinking coffee, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. Thus, Oliver considered this their real six month anniversary, marking when they had become more than just two guys who had lots of sex and accidental feelings, and he wanted to celebrate it with Connor, even if “celebrating” meant standard date night with Connor not realizing the significance. However, because “something had come up, don’t come over”, that wouldn’t be happening.

Two hours after he was supposed to leave, Oliver finally escaped and made his way home. He had a headache and just want to sleep. Opening the door, his senses were assaulted by a mixture of Pledge, Pine-Sol, and Febreze. He stared at his apartment, standing in the hallway and peering in the door. If his key hadn’t worked, he would have thought he had walked into the wrong apartment; as it was, he was tempted to check anyways. Everything was clean, much cleaner than when he had left. There was no sign of clutter, nor of the layer of dust that had accumulated during his busy schedule this month. He was pretty sure the floor had been mopped too.

“Well, are you going to come in?” an amused voice called. Connor came into view, playful smirk in place. “You’ve already kept me waiting for over two hours.”

“Work was hell,” Oliver explained breathlessly as he stepped inside, too stunned even to ramble, a true first.

Connor took his coat and ran a soothing hand over his back. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Oliver shook his head. “I’d rather talk about this,” he said, gesturing to the apartment that could have been in a cleaning product advertisement ad with how shiny and spotless it was. “I thought you cancelled on me? And how did you even get in?”

Connor laughed and pulled Oliver to the couch. He sat behind Oliver and began massaging his back, shoulders, neck, and head. Oliver was pretty sure this was heaven. “Turns out Wes has way more up his sleeve than we give him credit for,” Connor answered. “Who knew the kid with a face like a puppy could pick locks? We finished up early because Laurel found the connection we were missing – though I was right behind her and would have found it myself if she had just handed over the document I needed, I’d like to point out – so I thought I’d come surprise you.”

“You succeeded,” Oliver assured him, leaning back to press a small kiss to Connor’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“I did the whole apartment,” Connor informed him proudly. “And there’s dinner in the oven. I put it in there to keep it warm, though we’ll have to reheat it anyways. I cooked it myself.”

Oliver turned around to face Connor and kissed the man deeply. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Connor blushed as he always did when Oliver used any nickname or endearment for him. “What’s the occasion? Not that I don’t appreciate it, ‘cause I do, but you’re not usually this…grand gesture romantic, especially with clothing on.”

“Oh, clothing will be off later, believe me,” Connor promised, switching into his seductive mode briefly. But the sweet and gentle mood returned almost immediately. In fact, he appeared shy now, almost embarrassed, except Connor Walsh didn’t do shy and embarrassed, right? “It’s been six months since I stopped lying to you,” he mumbled, burying his face in Oliver’s shoulder. “I don’t tell you everything, and I probably never will, but I’ve done my best to not outright lie to you. That’s a big step for me. Felt like a big deal. So I thought we’d celebrate it, and I wanted to do it right.”

Oliver wrapped his arms around Connor tightly. “It is a big deal. I was looking forward to our date because of it.”

“Can we call it our anniversary instead of the real one?” Connor asked Oliver’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’d like that too.” They sat in quiet for a bit until Connor’s back felt less tense beneath Oliver’s palm. “So, you say it’s been six months since you stopped lying, but you cancelled on me today. What’s up with that?” he teased, making sure to keep his voice light.

Connor snorted. “I never cancelled, I just said something had come up and you shouldn’t go to my apartment. All true. Not a lie, just misdirection, which is not the same as lying. It’s like a magic trick, except without a hat and no rabbit to crap all over your apartment that I spent so long cleaning.”

“Pretty sure that trick isn’t misdirection so much as cleverly designed tools of the trade,” Oliver corrected with a smile.

“Shut up.”

Oliver poked Connor in the side. “Didn’t you say something about dinner? I’m starving.”

“Then let’s eat and you can tell me all about your shitty day. We’ll be so domestic it hurts and I won’t run away screaming,” Connor said, standing up and pulling Oliver to his feet.

“Will we do the crossword over breakfast tomorrow?” Oliver joked.

“Don’t push your luck. I’ll come to my senses eventually,” Connor teased back as he out a massive pot of spaghetti from the oven.

“How many people were you planning on feeding?” Oliver exclaimed. “Are your coworkers stopping by later or something?”

“Nope. It’s the weekend, and I wanted to make sure we won’t have to leave the apartment for anything,” Connor said lasciviously with a heated gaze as he served the food.

Oliver blushed. He opened the wine Connor had set out and poured them each a glass. As they sat down to eat, he remembered something important in his jacket pocket. “For you,” he said, sliding a large ring box across the candlelit table to Connor.

“Oliver-” Connor started, paling and looking at the box like it was poisonous.

He laughed. “Relax, just open it.” Connor’s face transformed from terrified to delighted when he saw the copy of the key to Oliver’s apartment. “So Wes doesn’t have to break the law if you want to come over and surprise me again,” he joked.

“Of course,” Connor laughed. “Eat up,” he ordered as he added the ring to the key in his pocket. “You’re gonna need all your energy for what I have planned after this.”

Oliver smiled, took Connor’s hand across the table, and did as he was told. It may have been a terrible day, but it made the night that much more amazing.


End file.
